


The Demon(Angel)'s Kingdom

by jewelvox



Category: GOT7
Genre: Also comedy but it was supposed to be more dramatic, Angst, M/M, PLEASE STOP, and no magic mark is just insane, and what's up baby, i am back with a structured plot, it'll get more dramatic I promise, jackson is a loser and a mess but he's hot, my bois, revenge at mark for saying 'your' weird, that's pretty much it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:16:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelvox/pseuds/jewelvox
Summary: He basks in the night, on the path to darkness. He seizes the throne, hungry for the fiery power. His hands will open up the path for tomorrow. One will deceive him by spinning a false tale. He blackens the sun, watches it fall to the twilight.He reaches into the light, on the path to restore peace into the world. To wake the hopes of his people. To finish the dark. His hands will open up the path of tomorrow. He’s the sun, vanquishing the black to the dawn.No matter which path is chosen, they will both surely lead to grief, smiles, regrets, and dreams.  Descendants bound by blood, their sins reflected upon the chaotic water’s surface.Was Grey Lines, realized how dumb the title was and changed it to something relevant lmao





	1. Welcome to the Core

**Author's Note:**

> Hi the title doesn't have anything to do with the story enjoy lmao.
> 
> EDIT: YO NOW THE TITLE DOES MAKE SENSE LMAO

Mark loved fire. He loved watching it flicker and sizzle, the bright red flames seizing and burning everything around it. For as long as he could remember, Mark would hole himself into his room, night after night, playing with fire. No one bothered the young prince, as they knew it would not be the wisest decision for their career. After all, Mark was a young prince who had never been told no. Mark believed the flames called to him. He heard them calling. To him, only him. 

 

The Midna nights were always the darkest. The night clouds that would always hang above the kingdom and blocked the night sky, causing the moon and stars to remain unseen by the Midna people. While the Gévaudan people basked in the pale moonlight and twinkling stars, the Midnas were doused in darkness. On those type of nights, Mark liked to sneak out of his room to play with the fire in the fireplace, while everyone was asleep and unaware of his dangerous hobby. He played and toyed with the fire, watching it move up and down his arm. The reason he even had time for a hobby, despite being a prince, was because he wasn’t the crown prince, which his dad mainly focused on, letting Mark do whatever he wanted. Although he didn’t mind the little attention, he was a bit distraught with the idea of his older brother being king instead of him. Despite being only 12, Mark believed his older brother was not fit for the throne. It irritated him, just a bit, with the thought that he had to abide by his older brother’s rules for a lifetime. _ If only there was a way to deal with him,  _ Mark thought, the flames seeming to leap around his pale wrist at the thought. The fire never hurt him, because he respected the power fire held. The fire moved to a chair near Mark, and he watched it get engulfed in flames. Then, the fire moved to the rug, the cabinet, room after room became ablaze. Soon he was surrounded by a ring of fire. There was screaming, but Mark couldn’t tear his eyes away from the beauty that was the bright red filling his eyes. As he was dragged away by his guards, he couldn’t take his eyes from the glory.

 

Mark’s older brother died in the fire. No one could figure out what had happened. It was like someone --or something-- had held him down as he was burnt alive.

 

But Mark knew.

 

The Fire had answered his wishes.

 

However, it also killed his mother, the Queen. Fire always has a repercussion, after all

  
  


\----------

Mark fiddled with his red tie, irritated as he looked into the mirror. It was going to be his first day at what they called a ‘school.’ Ever since the Great War seven centuries back, a section between the two formed Kingdoms was separated to retain a peaceful area between the two. It became a school of sorts for the extremely rich and their servants or the extremely talented. It became known as the Core, being the center between both kingdoms. Mark didn’t want to go to the school, but his father insists, ‘per tradition’ he stated. So as Mark was awaiting the car to take him there, he watched his retainer Jinyoung stack his suitcases through the mirror, grimacing as he saw the school blazer wasn’t a perfect fit. “Didn’t I spend two hours fitting for this blazer? And they still got it wrong? Unbelievable.”

 

Jinyoung ignored him, which was a normal thing when he had known the prince since they turned 13 and Jinyoung was assigned Prince Mark to protect. “I’ve finished packing your items sir. Shall I put them in the vehicle as it has arrived?” Mark made a flicking motion with his wrist signing for Jinyoung to continue with his plan, still focused on the wrists of the loose blazer. “Stop being an uptight ass, you’re the only one I allow to speak informally, you might as well flaunt it.” Jinyoung made a sniffing noise, feigning hurt as he stated how untight of an ass he was. Mark rolled his eyes at Reflection Jinyoung, and went back to hating school.

 

As every place in the world, there was a hierarchy of classes. The Core was no exception. Naturally, peasants and servants were at the bottom, and --from what Mark had heard-- the most abused. Nobilities ranked next, with the most important gaining a level akin to royalty. That is, until Mark comes. Being true royalty, Mark would assume he would be treated best of the best, which is the what he deserved, of course. Apparently, the Gévaudan prince had arrived a long time ago, but Mark had yet to see any information about them.

 

Though Mark had been to many peace treaties between the two kingdoms, Mark had yet to see the prince. The Gévaudan tradition for choosing the next heir, in Mark’s and many Midna’s opinion, was cruel and barbaric. Fit for beasts just as the Gévaudans. Mark sneered at the thought. Cocking his head to the side, he burnt the cusps of his jacket.  _ Perfect.   _

 

“Prince Mark, they’ve arrived to take you to the Core. Are you done yet.”

 

Mark smiled, more pleased with himself.

 

“Yes. I’m great. I’ll come down right away.”

\----------

It was a Friday night, giving Mark a weekend to settle down before school started. He had blantly refused to come to the Core at first. He hurled at the thought of interacting with --he physically shuddered-- Gévaudans. But then, his dad had to mention his older brother. “Oh he would have done it without a single thought. How I miss him.” His father said, sighing. Mark was outraged. He knew he would be a better king then that hog would have ever, why does his father keep bringing him up? So Mark finally accepted, two weeks after the education year. 

 

More importantly, the rumors had apparently spread about his arrival, because there was a crowd of students trying to catch a glimpse of the prince. He groaned, closing his eyes and rubbing at his forehead. “How annoying…” Mark muttered, groping the back of his neck to find his hoodie, only to remember he was wearing a blazer. “Jinyoung, permission from the king to burn anyone within a two-foot radius of me?” Jinyoung arched an eyebrow. “Permission most obviously denied, and I don’t think the king would disagree.” Mark groaned yet again, and pushed open the door, and winced when flashes went off. “Holy shit.” Mark cursed, blocking his eyes as he pushed through the doors.Oddly, the people pushed him aside. From the charred edges of his blazer, they had assumed he was the servant and started to mull Jinyoung instead, who had the same outfit as Mark, but with less expensive fabric. He should consider it a blessing from the Fire again, as he wasn’t being terrorized, but Mark couldn’t help feeling personally attacked from the fact that not one of them recognized them. He might have to punish them later. Seriously, how could anyone forget him? Sure, his hair wasn’t as dark as Midna standard, but he was still regal in every other sense. So fuck them.

 

Mark pouted slightly and made his way through the crowd, shoving people out of the way, no longer caring who he pushed since they provoked him. 

 

That is, until he bumped into the most handsome person he had ever met in his life. Himself. Because he accidentally bumped into a window which reflected him nicely. Checking himself out, Mark didn’t even notice the stray Gévaudan student until the Gévaudan student’s hand caught on his loose and charred cuff and rip the sleeve clean off.

\----------

 

Jackson understood that the Midna prince was coming, and he was cool and icy and attractive and blah blah blah.

 

But his bladder did not care. So did his hygiene, as he reeked of sweat from his last sparring session. 

 

The prince could wait for Jackson to not piss himself. 

 

When he decided to go to the school, he thought it would be wise to not reveal himself as the Gévaudan prince, hiding as a servant to Jaebum to get a true feel of a political allie’s true persona. He was right, in the ally aspect. He saw what people truly were like and made mental notes for when he would be crowned. However, he didn’t expect to be harassed by so many nobles so early on. He could, of course, defend himself, but it would blow his cover. What excuse could he make for cutting off a noble’s left hand? Too much damage control, so he had to rely much on Jaebum, sticking to his side like an annoying piece of gum.

 

Enough of that though. He was about to pee his pants. 

 

Unfortunately for Jackson, the weaponry, where he was, and the closest bathroom was straight through the main plaza, which was where the Midna Prince was planning to come out. So not only did Jackson have to practically sprint through campus, but also through a gigantic crowd of mostly nobles who would love to swing out him. These were the times he wished he could just reveal that he was royalty so he could piss anywhere on anyone and they would be grateful.

 

Wait no, that’s fucking gross.

 

Jackson shook off the thought, opting to just focus on the task at hand. He seemed to be in luck, as the crowd was still far away when he got to the plaza. There was an odd Midna student that was going the opposite direction, but Jackson didn’t realize he was even there until the blond haired dumbass barreled pass the other, accidentally hooking his arm through the loose fabric of the Midna student’s shirt, ripping it in the process.

 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I’ll pay you back tenfold- Prince Mark?


	2. Midnight Tea

_“It’s just a rumor, but I heard that the younger prince killed his older brother for the throne.” The nobles whispered among themselves. “I heard that he was a mage. After all, they found him just standing in the fire, and nothing was burned around him. How horrid!” The woman gossipped. Mark wasn’t dumb. They were a meter away from him, he could hear them very well. He flashed a handsome smile their way, and the girls immediately swooned. He tried not to roll his eyes. “But the young prince is quite handsome, no?” He could still hear many others though._

_“Murderer.”_

_“Freak.”_

_“Fire-loving killer. He should be dethroned.”_

_“We should riot.”_

_They didn’t know anything, and they were only empty threats. He closed his eyes.  And imagined them burning, screaming in pain and torment. He recalled hearing that demons were addicted to fire, just like spiders who bask in the darkness of the night. They prosper off the flames as spiders are cloaked by the night._

 

_“Well, just call me the Devil then.”_

 

It was kind of depressing that the only person able to identify him was some dumb blond Gévaudan boy who looked like he was peeing his pants at that very second.

 

“You just ripped my blazer, you insolent Gév! Do you know how much this costs? More than you’ll ever make in your miniscule life.” Mark looked at the other in anger, and paused. He seemed vaguely familiar, which was odd because he wouldn’t interact with a person like him on his life. The other boy seemed annoyed at Mark also, which irritated him to no extent.

 

“Relax. I can pay for it, I told you-”

 

“Don’t drop the formalities serf. Though from the opposing kingdom, I expect you to use the little manners you have and address me as Your Highness.”

 

At this point, Jackson was feeling belittled by this haughty royal. He also still needed to take a piss, so maybe that’s why he lashed out. Annoyed, he tossed a bag of gold at the other prince.

 

“There you do, **_Your Highness._ ** Enough to keep a family alive for a year. It’ll definitely be enough to pay for your pyromaniac habits.” Jackson watched Mark’s face pale, and then slowly morph red in anger.

 

“How do you..! No matter, just get out of my face.”

 

Mark brushed past the other, pushing him over as he speed walked away, since there was still that gigantic crowd after him, which Jackson was soon faced with as he was promptly kicked off to the side like a broken toy.

 

“...”

“Well at least it’s near the bathroom...”

\-----

After he finally relieved himself, Jackson went back to his dorm in the Dawn Hall. Students were heavily segregated based on which kingdom you come from. Midnas in the Dusk Hall, Gévaudans in the Dawn Hall. Despite initial belief on how balanced the Core was, it was set to discourage interaction between the Kingdoms, and was influenced mainly on the reigning crown that was there. As Jackson was undercover, the Core would most likely switch to a Midna favoring place.

 

“Ugh, if I wasn’t undercover I can show that spoiled brat of a prince a thing or two about ruling a kingdom…” Jackson frowned, ruffling his blond hair. Being from a kingdom that thrives in the light and despises the dark (as they represent Midna), he was required to dye his hair a light color. It was funny, as Gévaudans were born with dark hair, just like Midnas. Jackson thought it was a sign that no matter how hard they try to forget, everyone comes from the same roots anyway. And Jackson takes that into heart, even when he his crowning was coming up.

 

Jackson wasn’t treated like a normal royal, or had a life like Midnas thought of as a princes' lifestyle. Oh God no. Him and his siblings were treated like trash until the Choosing. It was tradition. It made them stronger for when one of them would inherit the throne. Looking back, he was almost grateful for the hungry cold nights, late training, and harsh punishments. If he was treated the same way as Mark was, Jackson was afraid he would have turned into Mark; someone who didn’t the idea of working hard to get what they wanted. Thinking about how he became crown prince, Jackson winced. It was a painful subject, and he would rather not dwell on it again. He looked at his phone out of habit, since JB would call him if he was gone for too long. Just as he thought, there were a couple of calls.

 

“What’s up Jae-”

 

“Where the hell are you? You have archery!” Jackson whined, muttering an ‘I don’t want to…” eliciting a few odd looks from nobles, thinking it was shameful for a servant to deny his (what they assumed) master. Jackson scoffed. They don’t even know half the story.

 

“If you’re not here in five minutes, I’m telling the king.” Jaebum sniped, hanging up.

 

Jackson stared at his phone for a minute, mouth agape.

 

And then he started to sprint to the archery range.

\-------

Jinyoung slammed their dorm door shut, pushing at the rapid knocking at their door. Breathing heavily, he looked up to Mark, who was annoyed the whole way there, probably because he looked like a mess, with only one sleeve. Mark was looking at a big purse filled with what Jinyoung could only assume was gold. How Mark kept getting random bags of cash, he’ll never know.

 

“How did that fucker have enough money to pay me back?! What the fuck! He’s a servant!” Mark threw the purse at the wall.

 

“Chill man, where were you?” Jinyoung reasoned. Mark spun to face Jinyoung. He flinched slightly, seeing Mark’s twisted facial expressions.

“And you! Where were you? I was attacked by some Gévaudan with ugly hair!I’ve never been treated like this before!” Mark screeched, gesturing to his hilariously torn jacket. Jinyoung tried not to laugh, but a smile slipped out. Mark didn’t seem to notice. “He just threw a bag of money at me and acted like he was a prince or something! He has no right! That despicable-” Mark slapped his cheeks. His whole face felt warm, from what he could only assume was from anger. A bubble of laughter came out of Jinyoung’s mouth.

 

“I swear, if you laugh at me one more time, you’ll have no home in Midna.” Jinyoung wiped the smile off his face quickly, but snickered inwardly. “Right. Here’s your schedule, your Majesty. After I finish unpacking your stuff, we are required to meet all the important nobles. They will be great assets in the future.” Mark nodded, pursing his lips slightly. He wasn’t really a people person, at all. But he needed their trust and respect. The corners of his lips twisted up slightly, when Mark realized his matches weren’t confiscated when they entered the property. He lit one, humming as the fire bounced around his knuckles, ignoring a worried Jinyoung. The fire calmed him down, made him forget his problems, so that he could focus. Midna or not, he needed to have as many connections as possible when he became king. All he had to do was smile and act nice and humble for a second and they would be all over him, lapping off the dirt off his lap if he so asked.

“Okay. Set it up as soon as possible. I want this over with.”

\--------

“Seriously… I was… on the other side… of the campus…” Jackson panted, catching his breath. And he also needed to kinda pee. Again. Jackson cursed his tiny bladder. But it was fine. He compensated for his tiny bladder with his massive...ego.

 

“What took you so long?” Jaebum said, stern and anger dawning on his features.

 

“I had a little problem with another student. Kinda angered them. You know, with the whole ‘I’m a servant I have to be respectful to even brats’ thing.” Jaebum softened slightly, nodding in understanding. He was proud of his prince to dawn such a humble role for the good of his country. It made him have pride when he stated he was a Gévaudan. He clapped his hands. “Okay let’s start-” JB’s phone vibrated with a notification. It was Jinyoung, the Midna prince’s babysitter. He checked out the e-mail while Jackson fist pumped the air, happy to not do archery if only for a few minutes.

 

_To: Im Jaebum_

_Re: Invitation_

 

_Sire Jaebum,_

 

_You have been chosen to attend Midna’s crown prince, Mark Tuan’s, personal midnight tea party. It is an honor to join Prince Mark on his first day of arrival. You may bring a servant of your choosing.  The event will be today at 10 pm, sharp. Do not be late. Any questions may be directed to me,  who will answer them for the prince during this event._

 

_Thank you for your expected acceptance,_

 

_Jinyoung, retainer to the Midna throne_

 

“What an up-tight bit-” Jackson throws an arm over Jaebum’s shoulder, which he immediately shrugs off in disgust, sweat hitting his nose. “What the- did you start working out in the five minutes I was reading the e-mail?” Jackson shrugs, a ‘what do you do’ look on his face. “Work hard, play hard, am I right?” Jaebum rolls his eyes, tossing Jackson a towel and, searching around, a pack of deodorant. He looks at his phone, and curses. It’s 8 pm. They only have two hours. “Archery is cancelled. You need to take a shower. We have an appointment with the Midna snobs in two hours.” Jackson becomes more serious, his facial features hardening as he evaluated the situation.

 

“Suspicious. We listed you as a minor noble, to avoid further investigation of the Im household. It makes no sense to invite you. Proceed with caution.” He dabbed his neck with the towel JB threw at him, leaving it around his neck after he was done. Jaebum bit his lip.

 

“Do you think they know?”

 

“Probably not. However, they may have investigated your apparent noble family, and unearthed some things. Highly unlikely that they would focus on specifically us, but stay alert. Make sure to act like a proper noble. Don’t address the servants, and treat me as one. This is a good opportunity to find out about the Midna prince.”  Jackson throws the towel in the basket, and produced the charred sleeve of a Midna blazer out of his pocket, casually observing it. He couldn’t just leave it there in the plaza; he was a good person, sort of.

 

“He still plays with fire. That’s cute. We can exploit that if necessary.” Jackson ends the conversation there, a silence falling in between them. Jaebum thinks that in that moment, the prince looks fit for royalty, his shoulders tense and face brooding. It’s completely ruined when Jackson reverts back to his normal self, toothy and happy over the slightest of things. As he watched Jackson skip back to the dorm, he couldn’t help but sigh. His liege was hard work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. There's way too much humor in this I'm sorry it's supposed to be kinda dramatic. It'll get more dramatic hohohoho
> 
> EDIT: Okay so I finsished the thrid chapter and have started to write the fourth but not gonna post it yet :^))))) I just wanted to say that I have 5 ENTIRE PAGES of dialogue and lines, most of which I'm incorporating into this story (Others I'm planning to make into other stories :^))) AND TWO WHOLE PAGES ARE ANGST GET READY FOR A SHIT STORM


	3. Decieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are you doing you should be streaming the new JJP song. Go do that, then read my story please :)))) Let's support JJP's new comeback.

“Who drinks tea at night? It literally makes zero sense. This is modern times. You either drink ‘till you’re dead, or pass out at 3 am.” Jackson grumbles, shrugging on proper attire for a servant’s status. Jaebum glared at him. “You’re underage.” Jackson’s eyes widened, as if he had forgotten it was, quite in fact, illegal to drink at 18 without supervision. “Oh yeah, hahaha…” He drifted off. 

“I swear, if we weren’t going somewhere right now, I would choke you.”

 

Jackson feigned hurt. “Um, I’m royalty? You can’t just hurt me.” He said, not very confident about if the statement was true or not. 

 

“Shut up, we’re nearing the gazebo.”

 

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you called it a gazebo. It isn’t even a gazebo. It’s a gigantic wrought iron building with glass walls. It looks like a greenhouse but with the shape of a mansion and a size that would make peasants weep…..Actually, looking at it, it’s kind of a gazebo, but you can’t just  _ call  _ it that. This isn’t the year 200 BC. We aren’t Victorian.”

 

“Off by a millennia or two, Jackson. But shut up and act like a servant now, they’re watching.” Jackson immediately clamped up. Despite acting like a child from time to time, he was incredibly serious when it came to jobs. 

 

While Jaebum was getting settled in with the other nobles, Jackson looked around. He can’t possibly be the only servant bored here. He should give his own servants credit more often. It was too late for him, with all the work he did the whole day. He barely got three hours of sleep in total, and he could already feel himself drifting off. Despite the invitation saying they should be no later than 10, the host in question was nowhere to be seen. 

 

The person next to him jabbed him in the ribs. Jackson squawked, getting him a glare from Jaebum and the other nobles. 

“Sorry, I’m still trying to train him.” Everyone else gave the fake noble a disapproving stare, and returned to their circles. Except for one fellow Gévaudan with loud white hair. He stared at Jaebum, arching his eyebrow. Grabbing the tall man beside him, they made their way over. “I haven’t seen you around before. My name’s Bam Bam. Yes it’s a nickname, no don’t ask for my real name. This is Yugyeom. He’s a Midna, so he’s extremely angsty at times, please excuse him.” Yugyeom opens his mouth indignantly, but Jaebum cuts in before a fight breaks out. “I’m JB. Where’s the prince?” They both shrugged their shoulders (not without Yugyeom pushing Bam Bam though), not at all interested. “Who cares. I just came for free food. Can’t ever pass up food. There’s always good desserts at midnight tea parties though. It’s like, a staple of our country.” Yugyeom explained, nibbling on a pastry. Jaebum licked his lips.

 

“Well…”

\-------

This was seriously unfair. Jaebum was digging into the sweets, while Jackson was required to actually  _ serve  _ him. He tried to act up a mutiny thirty minutes ago, but the rest of the servants gave him weird looks. At around 10:30, Jinyoung had showed up and ordered the servants to carry trays around. So now, Jackson was being to forced to carry around tarts or something.

 

_ This better be worth it. It’s been an hour and the guy hasn’t even showed his face. _

 

“More pastries, sire?” Jackson gritted out, shoving a plate at Jaebum. The guard felt a little bad for his prince, but not bad enough to snap a couple of photos. 

 

“Yes, actually. Make that two.”

 

“I swear, you better be saving one for me-”

 

“Excuse me, tart boy! Come over here!” Another noble yelled him over. He grimaced, going off to serve another one.

 

\----------

 

It was getting closer and closer to midnight. The prince still hadn’t arrived, and Jackson was ready to call off the mission. As much as more information on the prince was needed, he wasn’t about to sacrifice his much-needed sleep on a lost cause. Jackson sighed, about to turn to Jaebum to go back to the Dawn Hall, until Jinyoung hit a glass with his spoon to catch everyone’s attention.

 

“Per Midna tradition, the host arrives at the dot of midnight. As the clock strikes twelve, let us welcome your Majesty, Crown Prince Mark Yien Tuan.”  Jackson couldn’t see him from the area he was in, but judging from the ogling from nobles and servants alike he could only assume that the prince was looking very handsome. It’s not like he cared though.

 

In other news, they could continue with their plans. Jackson tried to get Jaebum’s attention, but the guy was too busy staring.  _ Seriously? _ Jackson groaned, almost pushing his way through the crowd. 

 

“JB, the plan.” Jackson hissed, shaking the older’s arm slightly.

 

“Plan. Yes. That is what we’re doing.” Jaebum shook his head to release whatever spell he was in. He moved forward to where Mark was already crowded. That entrance was...something. Amazing. Mesmerizing. If Jaebum wasn’t already in love with Mark’s bitc- best friend Jinyoung then he might have felt something there. He hurriedly walked towards Mark, who had a huge smile plastered on his face as he whole-heartedly greeted each guest. To the untrained eye, that is. To Jinyoung, it was clearly obvious that Mark was grimacing with each hand he had to touch, eye twitching at flirtation attempts. But Mark was a great actor, clearly rubbing off of Jinyoung after years of staying at each other’s side. So to Jaebum, he was pleasantly surprised, and would be having a talk with Jackson, who held to the firm belief that Mark was an incarnation of the Devil, multiplied by the gates of Hell. He said so every time he came back from a treaty between the two kingdoms. Jaebum really didn’t understand his problem. He guessed that Jackson was probably confused since he usually couldn’t see shit through the mask he always wore to any event. Plus, whenever he casually mentioned how much Jackson talked about the Midna prince, Jackson immediately clamped up, so it was probably bias or some weird push-and-pull love. But he was sure to stay on guard anyways, despite Mark’s friendliness.

\----------

Mark looked at the clock. It had been five minutes. He wants to die. 

 

Instead of dropping right there, he moves on to the next person, and recognizes him. It’s the master of the servant that ripped his blazer. Of course, he got it fixed, but it still was a sore spot.

 

“You must be Im Jaebum, from the Im family. Welcome.” Mark tried looking around for his servant, ready to burn the blond boy (literally, with or without Jaebum's permission), but found him to be working, gingerly handling the desserts with care as he placed them into his serving tray. Maybe he was a decent servant. He could try bartering to see how much money it would take for Jaebum to fork over his servant, but not today. He had more important matters, like not staying at this event.

 

“Why don’t you bring your servant over here. I’m sure he didn’t tell you about how he  **ripped** my jacket.”

 

Jaebum began to feel uncomfortable over Mark’s dark stare and snappish voice. Oh. That’s what Jackson meant by the Devil. 

 

“Er, we can discuss that later. I know some things that you’re probably interested in hearing.” Mark arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.” Jaebum exaggerated the motion of pursing his lips, and leaning towards Mark. The prince looks at him curiously. Hook.

 

“Many of the other nobles don’t know this. I would be eaten alive if they knew. But my servant over there, Jackson, he knows the Gévaudan prince.” Jaebum paused for emphasis. “Personally.” Line.

 

Jaebum watches as Mark’s face contorts from surprise to disbelief. An unamused smile plays on Mark’s lips.

 

“Nice try. That’s impossible. No one knows who he is. Even I don’t.” Jaebum smirked. “Oh really?” He leaned back onto the glass wall, trying to ignore his hammering heart. He couldn’t screw this up. Or get killed. Mark was eyeing the box of matches he had at his disposal, probably picking the one he would incinerate Jaebum with.

 

“How was it like?”

Mark looked at him suspiciously.

 

“How was what like?”

Jaebum hummed at the response.

 

“How was it like for you to be held in our Royal Highness’ arms on your 16th birthday? I heard that you jumped into his arms as soon as the lightning struck, screeching like a little girl. Who knew the crown prince was so scared of a little light, hmm?” Sinker. Jaebum watched in glee as Mark’s face turned an all new shade of white as fear struck him.

 

“What the- we paid people to keep that shut!” Mark looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Mark still remembered it, clear as day. He wasn’t afraid of lightning that much anymore, but newly-turned sixteen-year-old Mark was terrified. There was no report for lightning storms, but as soon as he waved away the flame of his birthday meal, lightning struck and he latched onto the nearest person. He had no idea on earth who decided to invite the Gévaudan prince, since they were in no way close, but if he found out he would kill them. It was perhaps the most embarrassing moment of his life. He thought it would be soon forgotten since he assumed that the other crown prince was a loser without any friends, if that mask was to say anything about him. Apparently, he was wrong. 

 

(He could still remember the look of surprise in the other’s teasing eyes even behind the mask, or the smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and how strong his arms felt-)

 

Wait. This is blackmail. This is total blackmail. 

 

Mark tried to rack up ways to get rid of Jackson. Maybe he could just kill him. No, it would be too obvious. Plus, the Core was a neutral zone. Causing trouble here was a death sentence.

 

“How much do I have to pay you for him?”

 

“Actually, I already have a proposition for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you've been streaming THE MOST EMO SONG EVER RELEASED FROM THESE NERDS THEY'VE ACHIEVED LEVELS OF DAY6 EMO LIKE HOT DAMN
> 
> In other news, I already finished Chapter 4. It's slightly longer than these chapters (Around 2.5k ish only though) but it's probably my favorite thing that I've ever???? Written??? I really hope you like the next chapter I worked really hard on it :)


	4. The Angel and the Bluebells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to upload this a week ago actually, but I've had band practice for 9 hours a day for the past two weeks soo I didn't get much time to write Chapter 5, which I originally wanted to finish before uploading this. But, I feel bad for not uploading in quite a while, so I'll be giving yall them sweet juicy updates while I struggle to write even 500 words for the next chapter hahaha (It's going to take a while)

Mark excused himself after hearing Jaebum’s offer, disappearing into the night. 

Jaebum watched him walk away, eyes glinting. When Jinyoung’s back was turned, he mouthed ‘follow him’ to Jackson, who nodded in return. Jinyoung felt strange as he whirled around to give Jaebum an eye. It felt like someone was plotting something behind his back. Intuition, one might say. Jinyoung noticed a servant slinking out after Mark, probably to get another glimpse at him. Before he could call the servant out, the noble occupied him. “Hello, Jinyoung. You are Prince Mark’s retainer, yes? I have a question for you. I’m Jaebum.” Jinyoung racked his brain to remember who he was. Oh yes, it was the lowly noble from some no-name family. The only reason they invited him was because they didn’t want to seem exclusive, so they added a few lower status nobles. Also, Mark went into a flying fit when he saw that the rude servant he crashed into was the noble’s servant, and they invited them on the spot. 

 

He also noticed it was the same guy who talked an extremely long time with Mark. Probably another suitor. It was a shame too, he was so handsome and so not Mark’s type. So his though, but that’s not important. If Jinyoung remembered correctly, Mark was very into people who didn’t follow his orders all the time and flirts a lot, a casanova of sorts, or people that would let Mark burn their ligaments. Either one.

 

“Ask away.”

Jaebum smirked.

 

“Well, I gave your little prince a proposal before he ran away to think about it. I’m plenty sure he’ll accept, so I might as well tell you, since you’re a part of it all.”

\--------

 

Jackson thought the glass gazebo was stupid. What’s the point of walls that you could see through. Also, even though there was absolutely zero ways for him to lose Mark, he still did in this stupid glass maze.

 

“Finally got out of that motherfu-” Jackson stopped talking to look at the clearing. It was a field of vibrant bluebells, leading to the outskirts of a forest that only allowed minimal light to come through. 

  
  


He heard a story about bluebells once. 

  
  


_ Jackson’s father set down a pot on his bedside a few weeks after he won the Choosing. The plants inside were budding bluebells. His father sat down on the edge of his bed. _

 

_ “A long time ago, there was an angel who was love with a human. Earth was a giant, toxic wasteland, and everyday they saw him suffer. So the angel descended upon the wasteland. To soak up the venom of the world, the angel sowed its white feathers into the soil. The world sprung up with white flowers.” _

_ Jackson’s father pointed to the ends of the bluebell, which were a creamy white. _

 

_ “Then why are they mostly blue?” Jackson questioned from his bedridden state. Jackson’s father shushed him. _

 

_ “Because, as soon as the flowers sprung up, the angel’s wings became wounded and broken with the weight of the world. The angel could no longer return to the heavens, and they could no longer search for the human they loved, forced to stay in the same place, waiting.” _

 

_ “The angel, once a beautiful creature, cried pitiful tears. The moment the tears hit the earth, the flowers, the angel’s feathers, were dyed blue. The flowers bent in sadness, and could not look up to see the sun, in fear of the angel crying out for heaven, seeing the starry sky.” _

 

_ Jackson stared at the flowers. This was kinda depressing. His thirteen-year-old brain couldn’t comprehend it.  _

 

_ “The fallen angel prayed that the human was searching for the one that brought the blue flowers to earth. They too, wanted to move to look for the human, but the angel could only wander in their dreams, longing with their glass-like eyes, staring up at the moon.” _

 

_ “The angel was devastated with each passing day. Everyday was the same. There was no sun. There were only tiny stars and the moon and black. ‘Where are you? Will you not come? I came down to see you. These flowers I planted with my feathers have been dyed with my grief.’ The angel cried out to no one but him. They did not know that the wind carried the song of the Wasteland’s Miracle to every corner of the world. The angel’s human was coming closer and closer.” _

 

_ “When the human finally found the angel, their heart was dry, the angel forgetting how to bloom into the flowers they created with their tears and feathers. The angel’s wings were said to have turned into frosted raindrops, about to break. But the human pored his own heart out into the angel, and the angel was filled.” _

 

_ “That was a sweet story!” _

 

_ “I’m not finished. Shut up.” his father deadpanned. Jackson put a hand to his heart, offended. Jackson’s father went back to a misty-eyed stare, as if he was the one living the story. _

 

_ “The human stayed with the angel in the field of bluebells. But what the human didn’t know, was as soon as he stepped into the field  of bluebells, their story would not end well. The human grew weak, and with a final kiss, he perished in the angel’s arms.” _

 

_ “A long time ago, an angel died on earth. It tried to use its power to lift themselves and their lover into heaven so that they could be together for eternity. When the angel arrived, barely surviving the great flight, they found out that they could come in, but the human could not.” _

 

_ “What did he do Dad?” _

 

_ “The angel became angry. He flew back to earth  and cut off the wings that made him an angel, their blood seeping into the bluebells. The angel suffered for many years, but it never regretted coming down to earth.” _

 

_ Jackson was astonished. “Why?” _

 

_ “Because the dreaming angel met their human, and was satisfied. Because the angel was in love, the birds sang, and life flourished. The flowers bloomed, along with other plant life. The sun and the moon brightened the earth. We live because of the angel. It’s a never-ending story.”  _

 

_ "Shaken with the angel’s sadness, the earth took the wings of the angel away, taking the weight of the world back into her hands. She spread the poison throughout the new abundance of life that the angel had given, the bluebell being one of them.” _

 

_ “Now, do you have any questions?” Jackson sat in silence. “Was the angel a boy or a girl?” His father stared at him. “Really? That’s all you’re going to ask?” Jackson pouted. His father sighed, ruffling his hair. “The angel was who they were. That was it.” Jackson puffed his cheeks. “You didn’t answer the question! Was the angel a boy or a girl?” Jackson’s father chuckled, squishing his cheeks before standing up to leave. “Does it matter?” Jackson stopped whining. "You’re right." _

 

_ “Okay okay, but what are we in the picture? Are we the angels or the humans?” Jackson’s father gave him the disappointment look. “Well obviously you’re no angel. Of course we’re the humans.” He stood up to leave. _

 

_ “Wait wait wait! Dad, did you meet your angel?” Jackson questioned. His dad paused at the door, turned around and walked back, giving a watery smile. “I did. Once upon a time, a long time ago. But like the angel in the original story, mine died.” He held Jackson’s cheeks. “Son. Our family carries this story generation after generation, whether it turns out happy for us or not. One day, you’ll meet someone who you think is your angel. Your story won’t be exactly the same as the one I told you, but it’ll be similar. You’ll try to deny it, but your heart already knows. I won’t tell you to accept it, because I know how hard it is. Just...expect the worst, okay?" _

 

_ "Don’t worry about me Dad! I’ll get a happy ending for sure!" Jackson said enthusiastically. His father gazed sadly at him, but Jackson did not know why. _

 

_ "Okay Gaga, but all you need to remember is this. Never step into a field of bluebells, no matter how entrancing they may be. Bluebells are associated with everlasting love, but a field of blue symbolizes death. It was why the angel was in the middle of the bluebells. If you go into a field of bluebells, it will not end well." _

 

_ "But Dad, what if I see my angel in the middle?"  _

  
  


He snapped back into reality, gazing at the fields. He could see the outline of Mark in the middle of the field. Jackson hesitated. Others would have said that the story was a tall tale, but Jackson believed his dad to the last word. He stood at the edge of the field, unsure. 

  
  
  


Jackson stepped into the field of vibrant blue bluebells.

  
  


_ ("Run away. As fast as you can. Because that’s the Angel of Death.") _

 

It was hard to hide in the field of bluebells given the case that Mark turned around, but the prince of midnight was too preoccupied to notice. Jackson finally got to the point where he could see Mark, and suddenly his breath hitched in his throat.

 

The full moon graced over his features, making him look like a being higher than any mere mortal, the white accenting his already pale skin. In that moment, he was pure, wings almost visible in the bluebell field. His lips were slightly parted, basking in the moonlight. The white light bounced off his dark hair, highlighting the top of his head, creating a halo of sorts. But his eyebrows were scrunched up, as if he was thinking too hard. 

 

Jackson’s heart pounded.

Once, twice, three times.

 

Stunning was a word. Enchanting also. Beautiful was one too. Oh, ethereal was also a word. God-like is two words put together by a hyphen. ‘Features chiseled by God himself’ could be a word if you tried hard enough.

 

They were all words that Jackson could have said, but the first thing out of his mouth was, “ _ Angelic _ .” 

 

Jackson needed to get a grip on reality. Mark was clothed in full-on black. But he was gorgeous tonight, which was probably why he got so many stares when he arrived. And if he was gorgeous then, what he was right now

couldn’t

be

described.

 

The starry night sky was magnificent that night, couple with the full light of the moon. When Jackson saw Mark truly for the first time, his heart was filled with the stars of the night.

 

However, Jackson forgot that he was  **not** supposed to alert Mark of his presence, and was soon diving into the bluebells with his amazing warrior instincts. Mark immediately spun around to confront the noise, his face pink as he searched around the area, embarrassed to have been caught so vulnerable.

 

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

 

If he were to be real for a moment, it was extremely easy to find him. He was in the only place where the bluebells were pressed down.  Either Mark couldn’t see, or he wasn’t the brightest.

 

"Forget it, I’ll just burn the entire field-” 

"WOAH-KAY. I’m here. Surprise. Just…don’t burn the flowers please.” Jackson avoided Mark’s eyes, afraid to look directly at him, not wanting to be in any more trouble than he already was. Sure enough, Mark grabbed him by the collar and pushed Jackson, causing him to stumble. Jackson felt a stab in his chest every time he stepped on a bluebell. God, it was like he was linked to them or something.

 

“Stop trying to ruin my life. You and your prince buddy are trying to ruin my country, but sooner or later your head is going to end up on my dinner table.” Jackson was too busy staring at Mark’s face. Damn, that’s a nice face. He’s never seen it this close before. Now he could enjoy it to the fullest-

 

Okay, maybe he should have been paying attention, because now Mark’s hand was on fire. He was gripping harshly onto something though a bundle of white flowers.

 

_ Wait. Are those- _

 

_ “ _ Are those white bluebells?” Jackson questioned, agape. Mark was going to throttle the servant. Did he not listen to one thing he said? How dare he not pay attention. “Listen up, seriously! I’m your new-”

 

“They are! You picked them! How dare you! You aren’t supposed to pick bluebells! Especially the white ones!” Mark had never seen anyone gaze at him with the amount of fury that Jackson directed at him. He immediately got defensive. “So what? They’re just flowers. They would look good on my desk.” Jackson gave him a hateful stare.

 

And he lunged at the the flowers, grabbing Mark’s ablaze hands. The fire eagerly jumped onto its next host, eager for more room. Jackson winced at the pain, but didn’t let go of the flowers until Mark decided to drop them, not wanting to make a mess of some flowers. Instantly, Jackson started to complain. “You didn’t even bother to pick them by the roots! How are the supposed to grow now?” he pitifully collected the seeds from inside the bluebells, muttering a few words as he spread them out into the field. A sad pout formed as Jackson stared at the white bluebells. They were rare, still filled with the angel’s heavenly feathers before it realised he could not go back. He gazed lovingly at the fused white petals, rubbing them in between his fingers. It was at that moment where Jackson realized he was still standing inside the bluebell field. He immediately started sprinting out of the field, but not before hissing at Mark. “Don’t pick anymore flowers.”

\--------

 

Mark stood in disbelief. Jackson...just turned the tables on him. Wasn’t he supposed to be angry at Jackson for spying on him? He honestly can’t remember anymore. He was too distracted with just how... _soft_ Jackson acted over a bunch of flowers. The white bluebells he picked lay on the ground. He frowned. Honestly, he just thought they looked really pretty, the white showing out in the midst of the blue. Thinking about it, Mark narrowed his eyes. Does that servant think he can order Mark around to not mess with the flowers? He can’t control Mark. And with the new deal, it would soon be Mark ordering around Jackson. He looked around the field, seeing the sea of vivid blue surrounding him. 

 

_ I’ll show that stupid Gév who he can talk to.  _ Mark thought, match in hand. He asked the Fire to appear.

 

It didn’t.

 

This had never happened before. Mark made a ‘tch’ sound, clicking his tongue. He’ll just light the fire himself.

Mark struck the match against the rough surface, and it lit almost unwillingly. It was only a tiny flame, as if it didn’t want to be lit in the first place. It didn’t really matter to Mark. 

 

He tossed it into the field of bluebells. It didn’t light. Mark cursed, grabbing a lighter from his pocket.  _ These damn flowers really don’t want to be burned.  _

 

Mark really should have stopped there. It was obviously a sign to not torch the field. The warnings from the Fire was clear: Don’t do this. But Mark was a person that was never said ‘no’ to as a child. So he flicked the lighter and tossed it into the field. The fire finally relented, setting everything in it’s path ablaze, but stopped midway for some odd reason. But Mark was satisfied. He caused enough damage. He rolled his shoulders. His back started hurting, like something was slicing at him. Mark turned around, confused. But there was nothing.

 

\---------

 

Mark went back to his dorm. It was around 1 and he was too tired to function. He took off his jacket. There was something off about it though. Mark peered closer, and smelled something metallic. Blood. “What the-” He took off his shirt.Mark felt around his back where the blood was seeping out from, looking at the mirror. Turning around, Mark observed the damage.

 

Where his shoulder blades ended and met with his back, two deep slashes marked his skin, gushing out blood. He stared in horror. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing had touched him, yet it looked a stab wound. 

 

(Fire always has a repercussion.)

 

He blinked, and saw the wings of an angel being cut off.

 

For the first time in Mark’s life, he screamed.


End file.
